


See Where You Comin' From

by parrishsrubberplant (genus_species)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Georgia Martin/Alice Atley if you squint, Unbeta'd, also feat. running, feat. Faber
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:12:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9595463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genus_species/pseuds/parrishsrubberplant
Summary: Jack Zimmermann is hard to read. Maybe a visit to Samwell University will help Georgia Martin figure him out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> idk, man. I just have a lot of feelings about George and her pet rookie.
> 
> Title from The Heavy's "Short Change Hero."

It's hard to get a read on Jack Zimmermann. George thinks it's partly the fact that his media training started at the same time as his toilet training. He has non-answers for everything, polite and innocuous. Is he stiff, or just shy?

George's boss suggested that she come to Samwell. "Maybe he'll talk more if he's on his own turf," Tony said. So here she is.

Jack suggested the run when she asked him to show her the college.

"You study history?" she asks. She knows, of course: he's a month out from graduating with honors.

"Yeah, modern history," Jack says. "Umm, mid-twentieth century, not contemporary."

"Is it weird to study history at an American school?"

Jack thinks about it as they turn off the residential street and begin to run along the river. "Not really," he says. "I mean, a lot of the students are American, so they can be biased. But the faculty aren't. It balances out."

George asks him about his non-hockey pursuits--Jack struggles to think of any for a quarter mile, then apologetically mentions photography. She asks him to elaborate.

Jack's explanation of critiques and portfolios lasts them until Faber, which Jack insists on showing her.

"It's beautiful," she says. 

Jack grins. "Isn't it? I love the light in here, look." He takes her shoulder and turns her to face the late afternoon sunlight. It streams through the tall windows.

"How would you take a picture of that?"

Jack frames a shot with his hands, then drops them. "I wish had gotten more pictures--the early morning light is even better. My teammate and I would come in before sunrise sometimes for extra practice."

Unsurprising that Jack gets up before dawn to work. "What were you working on?" she asks. Jack can speak candidly about his own play--how is he at assessing others?

They leave Faber and ease back into a run.

"Oh, Eric? Number 15," Jack says. "He's fast, but small. He came to us with problems with physicality."

"Number 15? He's a speedy little guy." George remembers him. Jack's winger had been everywhere during the game.

"We worked on checking," Jack says. His head goes up like a setter scenting a quail.

George follows his gaze and grins. A blond guy walks across the bridge, absorbed in his phone. "Want to run him over and make it look like an accident?"

Jack grins and takes off.

George watches Jack as they knock over Number 15--Eric "Bitty" Bittle--and pick him back up. Bitty is cute. Jack smiles at him. 

Bitty chirps back as good as he gets, too. George likes him.

They continue their run. 

"Is Bitty the only player you worked with?"

Jack shrugs. "Chris--Christopher Chow, our goalie--and I practice together if we're both free. I mean, a lot of the guys will go for extra ice time if we can get it. It's just scheduling gets hard, with so many other people using our rink."

They pass a Victorian house, deep blue with white trim. Jack looks down at his watch. "It's still Professor Atley's office hours. I'd like to stop in."

"And he is?"

"She," Jack corrects. "Professor Atley is my thesis advisor. This is the history department, actually." He slows to a walk and starts up the front steps.

Once inside, he pauses to grab a cup of water from the cooler, and to offer one to George. She drinks it gratefully. Then Jack starts up the stairs. He turns right, stopping in front of the second open door. He taps his knuckles on the door frame. "Good afternoon!"

The woman at the desk has rectangular gold glasses and medium brown skin. "Jack!" Professor Atley smiles warmly. "It's good to see you.

Jack smiles. "Sorry, we smell--we won't pollute your office for long. Oh, this is Georgia Martin, Olympic hockey medalist and Assistant General Manager for the Providence Falconers." He turns to George. "George, this is Dr. Alice Atley, American Studies professor and my thesis advisor."

How did he know about my Olympic medals? George thinks. Right, he's a historian. Research is his job. 

She reaches out and shakes Professor Atley's hand. The professor has a firm, dry grip.

"So, are you interviewing Jack for a job?" Professor Atley asks.

"It's a little more mutual," George says. "A hockey player like Jack decides, too--where might be a good fit, might have the best playing opportunities and, uh, personal support." How much does this woman know about Jack and hockey? 

Her gaze doesn't flicker. "Sounds like a big decision."

Jack smiles. "There were spreadsheets involved."

"I know what Jack's like as a player," George says. "What's he like as a student?"

Jack Zimmermann stares at his shoes like an embarrassed grade schooler and not a nearly first-round draft pick. George and Professor Atley exchange looks of amusement.

"I didn't win the thesis prize," Jack mutters.

"You made it to the final round of consideration, if that helps," Professor Atley says.

"I didn't know," Jack says. "Thank you." George can tell: he would have rather won.

"He shows up," Professor Atley says. "Even after double OT."

It's not what George expected her to say.

Jack laughs. It's clearly a joke between them. "Professor Russom told that story," he says. "Yeah, I think it was just me and Eric from the hockey team that day."

"Jack, step out so I can praise you without you dying of mortification," Professor Atley says.

"It was nice to see you," Jack says. "May I bring my outline for the final essay, next week?"

"Of course. Take care, Jack."

Jack closes the door gently behind him.

Professor Atley hands George a business card. "Here." She taps her fingers on the desk. "If you have questions, call me. I can really only speak to Jack's academic work--he doesn't talk much about his personal life. But if he wanted to, he could go on to graduate school."

"He's going to play in the NHL," George says.

"I know," Professor Atley says. "And he wants to. He's smart. He works very hard, you know. He came here and his academic writing was much stronger in French than English--he spent a lot of time at the Writing Center as a freshman and sophomore. Now he tutors there." She looks at George, hard.

George smiles and holds out her hand. "It was good to meet you."

Professor Atley shakes her hand again. "Call me Alice, please."

"Alice," George repeats. She tucks the card into the pocket of her vest and leaves the office.

Jack stands at the bottom of the stairs, hands behind his back, reading a bulletin board. They walk out of the building together. As they begin jogging, she asks, "Would you ever go back to school for history?"

Jack shrugs. "I want to play a lot of hockey first. I really liked coaching, working with the peewee team, you know? So maybe, something involving coaching and teaching?"

They speed up, crossing back over the bridge.

"Not something you have to worry about yet," George says.

"I hope not."

They slow to a walk as they reach George's car.

"Thank you for coming all the way out here," Jack says.

George fingers Alice Atley's card in her pocket. "You're welcome," she says. 

She gets into her car and turns on the radio. She pulls out of the parking space. In her rearview mirror, she sees Jack walk up the steps and through the door of a dilapidated frat house.

She thinks it was a useful trip.


End file.
